


Another Eternity

by orphan_account



Series: Family is an F-Word [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arson, Attempted Murder, Cornelia being a massive bitch, Delusions, Dimitri is having a bad fucking time, Drabble Collection, Gen, Good Parent Jeralt Reus Eisner, Hallucinations, I am really just fucking around with what intsys has given us, Pre-Canon, Rhea's more of a villain, Seteth is Reasonable, at least Dedue gets to talk about Duscur though, chapters are labelled and have tws in the notes, i don't fucking know how to tag this, if Felix catches wind of this shit he's gonna freak out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22934686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Set of drabbles/side-stories for my fic Not to Disappear. Goes into the perspectives of characters around Felix, Byleth, and Claude. Provides insight to the larger AU this thing's spun out into.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Jeralt Reus Eisner & Alois Rangeld, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner & Seteth
Series: Family is an F-Word [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648333
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	1. Ungirthed- Jeralt's Flight from Garreg Mach

**Author's Note:**

> I said I'd do it so here I am. doing the thing. welcome to Jeralt Has Always Been Father Of the Year
> 
> also I'm totally dicking around with canon here. you are so super welcome to ask what the fuck I'm up to because honestly this whole thing is running away with me so fast. send help
> 
> also for those interested!: [my tumblr](https://innocent-by-half.tumblr.com) where you can vibe with me more freely
> 
> work and chapter titles from Purity Ring  
> I won't post just about my writing there, or even just about 3 houses so honestly anything goes just drop an ask about whatever and I'll chat with ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeralt doesn't know how he's gonna raise a kid on his own, but at least he can trust a couple of people to keep his family safe. Even from Lady Rhea.  
> \---  
>  _The air is familiar, the sound is not still_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for: Rhea being creepy about baby Byleth, heavily implied ableism from an npc towards autistic-coded Byleth, and conspiracies. also religious extremism but kinda on the down-low
> 
> lyrics in chapter summary from Purity Ring

Jeralt is a father. A father! He should be elated, or at least relieved. He’d nearly lost his child and his wife, but the baby survived. He was heartbroken over Sitri’s death, but he didn’t have the luxury of being properly beside himself. He needs to keep it together, he needs to raise this kid. Without a mother. He should be happy that he even has this much of his family left, when the threat of losing it all had been so very real.

Instead, he is paranoid. He’s jumpy when he hands his baby over to the wetnurse to feed. She was recommended by Rhea, what if she-

He sees the way Lady Rhea looked at  _ his kid _ whenever he shuts his eyes. Like the baby in her arms had hung the stars before her very eyes, even though the little thing just stares. And stares. And stays so still and silent that Jeralt has to check the little fluttering pulse in a tiny, chubby arm to make sure his child is alive.

A terrifying thought creeps up on him between wakefulness and sleep with the baby laid on his chest, the poor thing’s skin never warm to the touch in spite of his efforts to get those little limbs moving. Rhea had done something to Jeralt when she saved his life all those years ago, what if she did something to his newborn? Family to Sitri she may have been, but the woman had been downright intrusive during the pregnancy. Constantly checking on her and doting on her and using faith magic for every little ailment.

And now, with his kid motherless and struggling to stay warm, not reacting one way or the other to anything? The weight of the world put on these tiny shoulders curled against his aching chest through her gaze alone?

Goddess, he doesn’t trust her.

Not a fucking lick.

\---

The doctor makes a face, “that’s odd.”

Jeralt jolts, sleep deprived from his worries over how the baby doesn’t keep him up crying at night, “what’s wrong?”

“Your son is healthy, Captain,” the younger man tries to soothe him, to no avail, “he has all very normal vital signs aside from his lack of body temperature, and…”

“And?” Jeralt grinds his teeth. He needs to know what’s up with his boy.

He gets a Look for his temper, “I can’t seem to find a heartbeat. Which is odd, because he has a pulse, so he must have one, but I don’t hear or feel a thing in his chest.”

“And you still called him healthy?” Jeralt’s brows draw down and inward with his confusion and frustration.

“Well, by all rights, he has no signs of illness or injury aside from how quiet and cold he is,” the doctor shrugs, “I’m sorry, Captain, but I don’t know any more than what I’m telling you.” A wry smile gives his voice a joking tone, “perhaps he is simply heartless?”

Jeralt’s large, heavy hand comes down on the man’s shoulder and squeezes, “don’t become a court jester. Or tell anyone about this.”

The doctor swallows thickly, reading his mistake, “y-yes, Captain, my apologies… Can I do anything else-”

“No,” Jeralt scoops up his baby, wraps him in an extra layer, and tucks him into the sling at his chest, “that’s all.”

He doesn’t leave a tip for the man’s silence.

His child isn’t heartless.

Jackass.

\---

It takes another sleepless night to bring him to Seteth’s office. He must  _ look _ scared, because the man hustles him to a seat and even offers to look after his baby for a bit.

He needs to know he can trust him, first.

“I think Rhea did something to my son, Seteth,” he says, voice low and urgent, “I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I just don’t trust how she’s acted lately.”

Seteth’s face draws into a distressed frown and he swallows, locking the door to the room tight and drawing the curtains. Once he has a candle lit, he pours Jeralt some water and he sits across from him, stiff, “I… Do not trust her behavior, either. Not in regards to your son. She has been… Out of sorts. Fervent. I am worried.”

Jeralt sips his water, “you’re old friends. You’d know her better than I do. Do you think it’s because of…” He chokes up; he can’t say it.

Seteth has lost his own wife, Jeralt has heard. He knows. He shakes his head, “no. They were close, but… I have never seen her act like this.” He takes a sip of his water at the same time as Jeralt, “I am loathe to say it, but the way she looks at your child… If anyone looked at Flayn like that, I would have their head mounted above my fireplace.”

Jeralt nods. He feels so relieved suddenly, that the man across from him isn’t another blind devotee, that he slumps in his seat. His son lifts his little head, eyes peering up at him blankly, like the kid’s just observing everything idly. His hands shake, he struggles not to spill his water and elects to set the glass down.

“My offer to care for him for a moment still stands,” Seteth offers again, “you need rest. I won’t pry into the details of your suspicions, but let me help you. Please.”

Jeralt wants to cry. He places his son into Seteth’s steady arms. His anxiety spikes when he is no longer holding his son, then just as easily plummets when Seteth tucks the baby to his chest and coos, gentle, and smiles when a little hand pokes at his whiskery chin, more bare than Jeralt’s own. He gives the other man the sling he carries Byleth in, and sinks back into the cushions. Seteth just nods at him when they make eye contact once more, unlocks the door to his office, and goes back to his desk, like he’s not conspiring against his old friend just because he sympathizes with the paranoid new dad already nodding off in his armchair.

Maybe with his help, he can keep his son safe.

By Sothis, he’s going to try.

\---

It is under Seteth’s recommendation that he also talks to Alois, who similarly takes the baby for a moment once Jeralt can stand to allow him to touch his son. The young man is indeed most loyal to Jeralt as his mentor and role-model. Damn, he’s raised the guy since he was this gangly little shit of a teenager.

They come up with a plan just crazy and stupid enough to get his kid far, far from Rhea and her heavy gaze.

Seteth, in a surprising turn, commits arson to put the monastery into an uproar. He offered to do it with a tight smile, saying he has some things that need burning, anyways. And perhaps he will be a little tired that night, and careless, and something will slip.

Alois chases Jeralt, the “dastardly culprit of such a heinous crime”, with the baby and a pack of supplies and a route to the young man’s own wife in the Kingdom.

Both men promise to help him protect his family. His son. Little Byleth strapped over his heart. They’ll warn him if Rhea sends people after him, even with Alois telling Rhea the baby is lost to the flames.

He takes a deep breath of mountain air.

He kisses the top of Byleth’s little head.

No one will do anything sketchy to his boy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth: I am a proper man of the cloth. I would never do anything against the Church  
> Jeralt: I need help protecting my kid. I think the Archbishop did something questionable to my child  
> Seteth: so who likes arson? I, personally, enjoy a little ill-contained fire from time to time
> 
> yeeAAAHHHH Jeralt has inside guys babey!!!! I've been thinking about this for a month and this isn't even the whole thing!!!
> 
> I'm toning down Seteth's overbearingness with Flayn and also making him be at the monastery sooner because I don't respect intsys' narrative choices. but he's still very much a Protective Dad so if any kid is in actual danger suddenly he's game for whatever gets that kid safe. fuck everything


	2. Various Storms and Saints- Dimitri and Dedue's Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri is missing Felix dearly, and when he's nearly killed for the second time in his life, it manifests itself in a rather ugly way. Dedue hates watching His Highness suffer this way, but he takes no small solace in how speaking of his homeland calms the Prince down.  
> \---  
>  _And people just untie themselves  
>  Uncurling lifelines  
> If you could just forgive yourself_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO FUCK MARCH...... hate this month. never fails to fuck me over. piece of shit
> 
> but hi! hello! I'm still here. still writing this au. working on the next chapter of ntd, promise!
> 
> chapter title and lyrics from Florence + the Machine
> 
> I've got writing requests open on my tumblr right now! [check it out](https://innocent-by-half.tumblr.com/post/613534548229275648/buy-allen-a-coffee-ko-ficominnocentbyhalf) and feel free to ask for something! I'm trying to get back into my writing groove while this pandemic keeps me down
> 
> this one's for my ever-faithful commenter InStressPanic!! you're such a sweet person and i always look forward to reading your thoughts!
> 
> anyways! Dimitri gets to have Main Character Disease now. I'm so sorry

The Pegasus Moon isn’t a kind one this year.

Not that Felix has been around in person to celebrate his birthday, or was one for such things in the first place, but this is different. Felix isn’t just in Fraldarius, upset with Dimitri (at least, Cornelia says he was upset with him). No, he’s left Fearghus as a whole. Possibly even Fódlan.

His breath shudders in and out of his lungs. He’s been so good at not dwelling on this as of late. Even with Cornelia’s constant reminders when he “acts up” that he’d chased Felix away by failing to set the record straight and allowing Byleth to take the fall for his misdeeds on that mission, he’s been  _ good _ . But in his mind, Fraldarius is a gaping hole without knowing Felix is tucked away there. A hole that had just recently begun to close after losing Glenn.

He can’t help but consider that, perhaps- and with the exception of Rodrigue- he is cursed to bring disaster to any Fraldarius who has the misfortune of being around him. First the eldest brothers’ death, and now the youngest has left home because the childhood friend who he used to hold so dear has taken yet another person from him. Dimitri may never forgive himself for such a thing, even if Felix were to return and forgive him. Even if Byleth came back the day their work ban was lifted and waxed poetic about how they’re not upset over what happened. He is the crown prince. The future king. He should be doing so much better by not only his future Duke Fraldarius, but by his citizens.

Byleth had been a kind enough soul to back Dimitri and Felix up on that mission, and the prince had repaid them with a betrayal. Intentional or not.

Dedue’s absence from his side at the moment isn’t helping. Nor the fact that he has been sat in Cornelia’s office, listening to one of her endless, contrived lectures laced with insults to his person.

At least, he ponders in an attempt to turn his thoughts to something happier than contemplating his many failures to Felix, she does not treat Dedue how she treats him. Dimitri is certain that if she were to slap the Duscur boy, lecture him on every little thing he did, make him feel worthless, or even make reality seem warped and his perceptions unreliable… He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Dimitri is confident that if anyone were to do such a thing to his friend (no matter how Dedue tries to distance himself via their ranks) he would lose himself again.

At least the castle staff seeing him gut Cornelia like a fish would set Byleth’s record straight.

\---

Dedue can’t shake his anxiety. He’d been given a list of menial tasks, as though he were a servant instead of His Highness’ direct vassal, and he is only now finishing hours later. Not even the fond nuzzling and snorts of the horses, or the fragrant breeze of the gardens just beginning to bloom could put his mind at ease.

Contrary to rumor, Dedue is not a stupid person. He knows that Cornelia knows that he can’t refuse her orders, no matter what they are. He also knows that she gave him all these tasks and leveraged that fact to get him away from the Prince’s side for the past several hours so that she might “tutor” him. He knows a lie when he hears one. That woman has never taught His Highness a thing that made logical sense. All she does in her lectures is tear him apart at the seams with horrible, untrue words and feed him heavily modified truths, if not outright lies.

She, at least, has the dignity to not hit the Prince in front of him. Not that it keeps the reality that it happens from his notice, but he does not trust himself to not break her nose if he were to be present when it happened.

He is not surprised when he returns from his tasks and the door is not answered. He knocks a few times, until he hears a loud curse after a few audible crashes and thuds, and then Cornelia allows him entry.

His Highness is the first thing he sees, for he is on the floor. His clothes are singed, the room smoky. He has open, sizzling burn wounds on his arms, and the furniture is smoldering. There is blood on the expensive carpet, and where there are not burns or what remains of the Prince’s clothing, there are bruises. He is splayed out like a child’s ragdoll tossed aside from boredom, his breath rasping, shallow, fast.

Not a hair is out of place on Cornelia.

“Oh, dear me,” she croons, and Dedue can still heal the falseness of her concern through the ringing in his ears, “your timing couldn’t be better, dear, Prince Dimitri got into one of his fits and knocked a candle over. I’ll go get a healer. Get him to his chambers, would you?”

She absconds, and Dedue’s gaze is only removed from her repugnant form when his line of sight is severed by the wall.

Dedue fears he may regret saying His Highness’ first name for the first time when he is dying on the floor.

\---

Dedue doesn’t like the King Regent. He has isolated Dimitri from his friends quite a bit since the Tragedy, he is married to Cornelia, and he has been complacent in not only his nephew’s suffering, but the Duscur people as a whole.

He pulls through, just this once. Ordering Dedue as the only person allowed in the same room as His Highness aside from trusted medical staff. Not only that, but shutting Cornelia down when she kicked up a fuss about not being granted access to the Prince. For the first time, Dedue considers that, perhaps, the man’s hands have been somewhat tied in this particular situation as well. Not that it soothes any of Dedue’s ire towards the man.

In spite of His Highness’ lacking his sense of taste, Dedue makes him a hearty, brothy soup stock when he is awake enough to stomach it. It’s from Duscur, and the smell, though different due to his need to improvise a few ingredients, makes him smile at the memory of his mother when he makes it.

That doesn’t mean this is an easy thing for him. Nursing the Prince back to health has been… Taxing, emotionally. No matter how much he cares for him, or even because of that, listening to him groan and cry out in his sleep, or when he is conscious, is unpleasant at best. Not to mention that he practices his writing skills that Dimitri has been kind enough to teach him by keeping notes about his condition. There is no escape from the sound of him weeping for Felix- or, sometimes, Byleth.

_ ‘5th day of the Pegasus Moon _

_ He seems to believe Felix is dead today. Byleth as well. He blames himself, and he begs Felix’s ghost to forgive his failure to protect them both from the consequences of his own actions. _

_ His burns are recovering steadily, and the scars are projected to heal cleanly. _

_ He likes to hear about Duscur cuisine. It distracts him from the pain and his thoughts.’ _

_ ‘12th day of the Pegasus Moon _

_ His Highness is improving, somewhat. He is able to sit up much more, and he has begun to move about to regain his strength. _

_ With the pain lessened, his conviction that Felix is dead has lifted. However, he now tells me how Felix detests him for the death of Byleth, and will never return to Fearghus. When he is in a particularly bad state, he is certain that Felix wishes him dead. _

_ He has been happy to listen to stories of my family. He asks after them when he is indisposed with pain.’ _

_ ‘17th day of the Pegasus Moon, _

_ The Prince has been cleared to walk about. Guards and servants are now permitted in the same space as him, so long as I am also present. _

_ His delusion that Byleth is dead is beginning to waver. Felix’s view of him in his mind swings with his mood. If he is in a good mood, he hopes that both of them will return soon and assist in righting the Tragedy of my homeland. When he is unwell, or his pain flares, he once again expresses guilt over Byleth’s imagined demise and laments how Felix will never return because he is responsible for his friend’s death. _

_ His reverie is easy to break. He has a keen interest in Duscur traditions, history, and the flora and fauna of the region.’ _

\---

“I’m sorry you were saddled with being my nursemaid, Dedue,” Dimitri says, earnest. He remembers the things he’s said the past weeks. He feels like he’s broken from a fever dream, at long last. The fact that it is Felix’s birthday is not an irony that is lost on him, “it can’t have been easy to listen to me rant like a madman.”

Dedue smiles, faint but clear to the prince in their familiarity with one another, “it was not pleasant, no, but I cannot begrudge you missing a close friend near his birthday. Especially after you were nearly killed.” His smile grows, softening his face, already getting angular in their sixteenth years, “besides, it was made easier by how you were so easily soothed by my talk of Duscur.”

Dimitri laughs, breathy and weak, embarrassed. He twiddles his thumbs, “your homeland is captivating, Dedue. I hope to one day see it in a similar way that you have.”

“As do I,” the other boy agrees, voice warm and fond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hear me out: this could have been worse. I wrote a breakdown scene of Dimitri directly after returning from the mission. I probably won't post it because it's. a real doozy but if you guys really wanna see it, I might? depends
> 
> anyways. love Dedue or suffer

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't, please go check out Not to Disappear since it's the main body of this AU jsbdfjhsdhf
> 
> as always, much love for y'all and your support and enthusiasm I don't think I'd be doing this without it ;u;


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